


Sweet Miss Betty

by Veskittles



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, I'M IN HELL, IT'S MAINLY AN OC STORY, i hate my life, momma's boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:48:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21546325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Veskittles/pseuds/Veskittles
Summary: A short story about Alastor's mother.I WHOLEHEARTEDLY BLAME THE RADIODUST DISCORD. ESPECIALLY LIB.
Comments: 39
Kudos: 161





	Sweet Miss Betty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mega_purplezebracorn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mega_purplezebracorn/gifts).



> enjoy i guess! excuse me while I die

If you traveled deep into the bayou, you would be greeted by a putrid aroma, made only more revolting by the constant whizzing of mosquitoes. I mean, that was hardly unusual. It was a swamp. One couldn’t imagine anyone would choose to live there, why, one would be mad to even entertain the thought!

But the residents of the bayou didn’t choose to live there. They had no other place to go. Everywhere else was too expensive, didn’t look kindly on their kind, or had a lovely and unfortunate mixture of both. And so, they stayed.

But that wasn’t to say that they weren’t happy. Upon arrival at the heart of the community, one would find oneself surrounded by dirty but smiling faces, with music and laughter wafting lazily in the heat. The filth and sickness, the poverty, the downright poor lot in life that these people received… they made the residents of the bayou only love life even more. They truly understood how precious life was, and they wouldn’t waste the wonderful gift given to them.

There was one woman in particular that understood the price of a happy life. In town, she was known as the crazy, estranged daughter of the mayor, who threw away everything to be with the son of a nobody. And a black man, no less! Oh, it truly was a scandal. But no one in town spoke of it, lest they valued their jobs. Still, everyone knew. When she came into town for whatever business she may have had, she was pierced by hundreds of curious, even hateful, stares. Truly a loony woman; to think she could walk proudly in the town which she’d brazenly thrown away.

However, in the bayou, she was known as sweet Miss Betty. She was a fashionable, soft-spoken, well-mannered, never seen without a gentle and welcoming smile: the very picture of a gentlewoman, without any of the haughty airs and graces. During the day, neighbours would be drawn in by the wonderful smell drifting from her pots and pans and out onto the rest of the residences. Like one of the saints themselves, she’d never turn away a hungry mouth, and she never expected anything in return (though she received plenty in return, because it would be terribly rude not to return kind favours).

And at night? Oh, did her home exude a different kind of wonderment. Music bled out of the shoddy, thin walls; the sounds of the piano like the softest balm on their poor, tired ears. More often than not, the piano would be roused into playing a more upbeat jolly tune by the wild, merry violin, played by Miss Betty’s far more excitable husband, Ray. They played like the sun and the moon, in perfect balance. If one were lucky, then one could catch their voices entwining somewhere in their simply symphony.

Yes, there was a lot that Miss Betty had given up. Yet, whenever she greeted the other residents of the bayou, whenever Ray made her laugh, whenever she looked at her dear, darling Alastor… she regretted nothing. In that moment, her life was perfect.

But, as we all know, moments do not last.

~o~

Miss Betty hummed softly to her herself as she prepared lunch. Truth be told, she never quite knew what she was going to make before she made it. She simply picked out ingredients she felt were right, and it turned out well in the end. A genius, some of the other housewives called her, but she’d always wave that silly word away. She was simply lucky, is all.

She quietened down her humming as she heard Alastor outside. Her boy was practicing again, creating another one of his ‘radio shows’. Her smile grew wider as she chopped the onions. The little darling was obsessed with the radio. When he was home, he’d either be seated on the ground with eyes wide as he listened intently, rushing over to the piano or violin to quickly copy whatever song he’d just heard, or practicing one of his ‘radio shows’ to show off to Granny, Ray and herself later.

His ‘radio shows’ consisted of little bits of ‘news’, or in other words, things he’d noticed in his walks around the bayou or in his rare visits in town. The shows would even have his own original music as part of the show, though they were always much too short to be complete songs. Often, Ray would jump in with ‘breaking news’ or continue one of Al’s little snippets, making their son’s eyes glitter with unabashed joy. If there were anyone in this household that should be considered geniuses, then it should be her boys.

Oh my, but she couldn’t let Alastor realise she’d been listening in on his practice. He’d be awful cranky. She began to hum once more.

A shriek pierced the lazy, hot air of the bayou.

Granny had been roused awake by the scream, and through her grogginess began to ask what on earth that had been. But Miss Betty didn’t hear. She’d already yanked the shotgun off the wall and had rushed outside to face the sound that every mother feared.

It wasn’t unusual for alligators to be here. They did live in what was essentially a swamp, after all. Rather docile creatures, for the most part, but children looked little different from small animals to them. So, it wasn’t unusual that a child may be attacked if they get just a little too close to the water.

Miss Betty saw the gator, jaw bared at her son, and she shot. She was no expert hunter, but in all fairness, it was a terribly hard target to miss. It didn’t kill it, it merely knocked it off course. It barely missed Alastor, but the boy was too stunned to take the opportunity to run. She ran forth and grabbed his collar, pulling him back as the alligator back up to attack once more. She pulled him behind her, much more roughly than she intended, and readied the next shot. Her timing would have to be impeccable, but her sense of timing was one of her grandest talents, if she may be so bold in admitting.

With a serene smile, she waited for the gator to bare its fangs once more, before filling it’s gaping mouth with an explosion of lead.

The blood spurted like violent fountain, dying her frock a deep red, and even speckling her face in sticky droplets. But there was no time to fuss over herself. No more danger? Excellent. Inhale. Exhale. Was her smile still in place? Ah, good. It wouldn’t do to show weakness to her darling Al.

She turned around and knelt by her boy, setting the shotgun by her side. She gently held Al at a distance, inspecting him for any injuries. Nothing but bruises and ripped clothes. Things that could heal. Thank goodness. She finally hugged him, closing her eyes as she squeezed him tightly. It would be useless to ask if he’s okay. He wasn’t. Instead, she murmured, ‘Mother has you now. You’re safe, Al.’

After a few more heartbeats, she soon felt his small hands clutch to her frock. He buried his face in her shoulder as he cried, his tiny frame shaking. If her smile wavered, there was not a single soul watching close enough to see.

~o~

‘Al, for goodness’ sake! Your bowtie is crooked!’

It was only a light reprimanding, but it was enough to make the young man look sheepish as he attempted to straighten his clothes. It truly did nothing to help. He looked just as messy as before. Miss Betty shook her head with a soft sigh, as Granny cackled from the couch.

‘Betty, leave the boy be! Ain’t like he’s runnin’ for president, eh?’ she barked.

‘No no no, Mother is absolutely right!’ Alastor was beaming at them both now, barely able to contain his own energy. My, how he looked so much like Ray… ‘Just because I’ve gotten the job doesn’t mean I’ll keep it for sure! Every impression counts just as much as the first one! How do I look now, Mother?’

‘Like unfolded laundry, darling,’ Miss Betty said softly, drawing a rough chortle from Granny and a half-smile, half-pout from Alastor. She stepped towards him, taking matters into her own hands. Bowtie straight, vest straight, shirt tucked in, belt not too tight but not too loose… His hair was a slight disaster, but if she tried fixing it now, then he definitely would be late, so it had to do. ‘There, much better. Oh, Alastor.’ She placed her hand to his cheek, and he leaned into her palm. ‘I can’t believe you’ve already come so far. We are so, so proud of you. Work hard, but more importantly, promise me you’ll have fun, won’t you? It’s only your first day, you should enjoy it.’

‘You’ve not nothing to worry about, Mother! It’s  _ radio _ , how could it not be fun?’ He drew away from her hand and leaned in for a quick kiss on the cheek, before zipping towards the door. ‘See you soon, Mother, Granny!’ But Alastor paused when he opened the door halfway, eyes shining as he turned back to them. ‘Oh! And if I find any news about Father, I’ll make sure you ladies are the first to know!’

‘How? You gonna send a pigeon, boy?’ Granny said with a snort. ‘Go on, shoo. Gonna make the big bad bossman mad on yer first day, ya are.’

Alastor simply replied to his grandmother’s grumbling with a hearty laugh. He shot his mother a smile simmering with excitement, and she returned in kind with her own knowing, soothing smile. With a click of the door, he was gone.

It would be too much to expect Alastor to appear on air on his first day. Still, they kept the radio on, just in case. He was probably doing some kind of menial task that was often given to new hires. He’d be bored out of his mind, Miss Betty bet, but nonetheless he’d do any task given to him with near-frightening efficiency. Frankly, that radio station was lucky to have him. He was a reliable boy; she didn’t need to fret over him.

It was some time mid-afternoon when Miss Betty was hanging the laundry. She was humming another tuneless tune, as she often did. Their house was rarely a silent one, and she rather preferred it that way.

She stepped out from behind a reasonably clean bedsheet, when she stopped in her tracks. There was a man in full, formal military attire. He was stoic. Cold. “Excuse me ma’am, are you the wife of Raymond-”

His voice became garbled. Nothing but white noise. The edges of Miss Betty’s vision blurred. All she could see now was the neatly folded and tattered uniform in the man’s arms. There was a badge atop it.

A Purple Heart.

~o~

There wasn’t a year that went by that she didn’t miss Ray. His hearty laughter, the mischievous twinkle in his eyes, the way he held her and Granny and darling Alastor as if they were the most gems in the world. But more than anything, she missed the way he made her feel like they could fight the problems of the world with a smile.

She tore her eyes away from her pan, gazing at the little memorial they made for him. It was flimsy at best. They couldn’t even afford a frame for the photo, so it was propped up limply by the wall. The sight made her heart crack even more. It was a cruel reminder of what little they all had. There hadn’t been a body to bury, and they hadn’t had the money for more than a sorrowful neighbourhood gathering.

Yet, knowing Ray, he’d probably have liked that. Being sent off amongst friends, amongst people who truly loved and understood him. The people who could laugh about the times when he’d been an ass, and cry over the good that he’ll no longer be able to bring. She couldn’t speak for the dead, but she felt that he would really have liked that.

And this entire time, Alastor was a blessing. He didn’t complain at all. He was already at the age when he should have been looking for a lovely wife to settle down with and begin starting a family. He was at a reasonable position at the radio station, he could have had enough to live quite comfortably by himself, if he chose. Yet he chose to remain living with her and Granny, he chose to continue supporting them, and did so with a smile. What had she done to deserve such a wonderful son?

There was no doubt about it, she thought as a smile crept back onto her lips. Alastor is the most precious thing in the world to her. No, her darling boy  _ was _ her entire world. She didn’t believe that there was much she could do in this world anymore, her age slowly was catching up to her, but she would do what she could. She would do anything to protect him.

The door creaked open. That wasn’t unusual, her home remained open for everyone, even after all… all of this. She was determined that, at least, she could continue providing at least that much. Besides, if it were something unwelcome, her shotgun was always nearby. She turned to face the visitor with her signature serene smile.

And with that smile, she froze.

Alastor was covered in blood. It seeped into his pants and on the fringes of his vest, it stained his glasses, it… it was everywhere. He was half-smiling, but the only thing she could see in his eyes was raw panic. Her mind turned to the time of the alligator attack. Had she also looked so frightening?

‘Mother,’ he said. His voice was shaky, as though there was too much coursing through his veins, too much to process. ‘Mother, I… at town, he just…’

It was only now that Miss Betty noticed that her son was holding something. Or rather, someone. She decided to not linger on the image too long. Besides, a dead person isn’t in a rush for medical attention. Her son on the other hand-

‘Did anyone see you, boy?’ Granny’s voice cut through the thick air like a serrated knife. Miss Betty hadn’t seen her awaken from her nap, but that mattered little now.

‘Granny… No, I don’t… It’s… it’s dark…’ Alastor glanced behind himself, as though he had to make sure that he really had walked under the cover of the stars. Granny caught Miss Betty’s eye with a steely firmness. Miss Betty met it the soft fierceness of a rose. It was a simple cause, a bond, that they shared in an instant. Protect the boy.

Without another word, Granny took a candle, shuffled outside. Yes, it was dark, but there would be light at some point. And in that light, a trail of blood would reveal itself. Thankfully, they lived in the bayou, in a swamp. The one place where sins could be swallowed and forgotten. The door swung shut behind her, leaving Miss Betty with her son clutching onto a corpse.

He’d been her pillar all these years. It was high time she did her duty as a mother once more. Inhale. Exhale. She could not show weakness

She gripped him at an arm’s length and inspected him for injuries. None that she could see. At the very least, most of the blood staining his clothes didn’t seem to come from Alastor himself. She coaxed him into letting go of the corpse. It landed with a dull thud on the uneven planks. Then she embraced him, one hand caressing the back of his head, and squeezed him tight. She could hear his haggard breath, his tense body… but soon all that tension seemed to collapse. He wrapped his arms around her in turn, clutching onto her once more, as if she was the only thing grounding him right now.

‘Mother has you now. You’re safe, Al.’

There was no response, bar a tighter squeeze from her boy. His breathing evened out, quietening as the adrenaline drained from him. Miss Betty would hold him for as long as her needed. Her gaze turned downwards, to the corpse.

Ah. Well. It appears that their dinner plans have changed.

~o~

Falling didn’t hurt as much as she thought it would. And the distorting of her humanly body into a demonic form wasn’t as terribly scarring as she’d been led to believe. Really now, if she’d known the stories of being cast into hell were exaggerated, then she would have been far naughtier than she had been in her life.

Well, I suppose being an accomplice to several murders was naughty enough. But didn’t she simply do what any sensible mother would do?

Miss Betty turned a corner, letting out an inaudible sigh. Alastor had disappeared one day, just completely vanished from the town, from the bayou. All that had been found by the police were his bloodstained glasses. Yet somehow, they hadn’t figured out the true weight of his sins, the trail of blood he’d left behind him. They simply assumed that her son, a radio star, had been killed by some possessive fan or a jealous rival, rather than oh, perhaps someone seeking revenge? Either she and Granny were excellent at tidying up after darling Al’s little games, or the New Orelans Police Department was truly the most incompetent police force in the country.

And she had grieved at the time, oh did she grieve. What sick fate it had been, to be unable to bury neither her husband nor her son. But now, it had been more than 50 years since she’d died a rather peaceful death. She was in Hell, this was her eternity (provided she survive the exterminations, naturally) and if time could heal all wounds, then an eternity of contemplation must do wonders for the mind.

Regardless, she did wonder where her darling boy had gone. She doubted he joined her husband in Heaven, and she doubted that Alastor would have died in an extermination. He was a cunning boy. But Hell was a rather big place, so seeing him would be nothing short of a miracle. She felt a sharp pain in her chest. Maybe this was her true torture. Eternally holding some hope that she’d see her boy again and being eternally disappointed.

Miss Betty blinked. Oh dear. It seemed she’d zoned out far too much. Where on Hell had she ended up? She stilled her breathing and listened. Oh, voices! Perhaps they would be so kind as to supply her with directions. And if they weren’t so inclined, she didn’t think she’d have much of a problem dealing with them.

She turned another corner and was faced with a ring of demons. However, they paid her no mind at all, rather absorbed in the tall, pleasant-looking spider boy whom they surrounded. Oh dear. How rude. It wasn’t nice to gang up on people.

‘Boss sends his regards,” growled one of the demons, pulling out a gun, and pointing at the spider boy. Oh, so she must have caught the tail end of their conversation. Well, she’d never been one for leaving someone in need. She reached behind her.

The spider demon looked less than a little concerned. “Hoo boy, you guys never learn, do-” But he was cut short. There was a loud BANG, and suddenly five of the men were headless. The spider boy’s mouth just hung there in shock, as did the mouths of the men around him.

‘Ahem. Excuse me, darlings?’ All eyes turned to the petite Miss Betty, carrying a shotgun much larger than what her frame should have been able to handle. She gave them a kind, serene smile. ‘Hello, dears. I couldn’t help but notice that that dear effeminate fellow there is heavily outnumbered. I do dislike an unfair fight, so I hope it won’t bother you if I were to, ah, even the odds a little.’

‘What the fuck? You crazy bitch-’ With another BANG, that man was silenced. Mostly because everything above his waist had been blasted away.

‘It appears that it does bother you. Ah well. My apologies.’ And with that, Miss Betty cocked the gun and took aim.

~o~

‘Shit, lady! No idea why ya saved my perfect ass back there, but hey. Thanks.’ The spider demon was grinning widely at her, as he tucked away the tommy gun with a pair of his limbs. Miss Betty herself let the shotgun shrink until it was a more believable and reasonable size, before tucking it behind herself, making it all but disappear.

‘It’s just as I said, darling. I dislike seeing unfair fights.’ She glanced down at a twitching corpse, before turning her smile back to the spider looming over her. ‘Also, your jacket is quite lovely. I thought it would be a shame if those men had ruined it.’

‘Eh, another weirdo in Hell. Go figure. No offense though, yer like… a good kinda weirdo.’

‘None taken. Ah! I’ve just remembered. I am quite lost, so I would appreciate it if you could help re-orient me.’

‘Hm. I don’t usually do favours for free, but ya did help me… Ah fuck it, why not? I can take ya back to the hotel, so you can probably find your way back to… wherever you’re goin’. Sound good?’

‘It does, thank you darling. By the way, my name is Betty, but my friends all called me Miss Betty. And yours is…?’

The spider demon blinked. ‘Uhhhh. Excuse me? You don’t know me? Angel Dust? Only the most famous porn star in Hell?’

‘Ah. I’m afraid I do not partake in viewing pornographic picture shows. My apologies.’

Angel laughed as he started walking. ‘‘Picture shows’, huh? Y’know Miss Betty, you remind me of someone at the hotel. Yer less of an asswipe, though.’

She couldn’t help but chuckle. This boy certainly had an odd way of complimenting people. It was actually rather enjoyable.

~o~

‘Angel! Where have you be- OH MY GOSH! HI!’ A lovely, blonde girl took both of Miss Betty’s hands, practically vibrating with boundless energy. ‘Welcome to the Happy Hotel! I’m Charlie! Are you here to be redeemed?’

Miss Betty eased into an even warmer smile. Was this one of Angel’s friends? Well, she certainly was meeting some delightful people today. ‘I’m afraid redemption is a little beyond my grasp, darling. Thank you for the offer.’

‘Oh, don’t be like that! I’m sure you-’

‘Hey, quit it Charlie,’ said Angel, arms crossed. ‘Miss Betty here’s just lookin’ for directions.’

‘I am sorry to disappoint, dear,’ Miss Betty said softly. ‘Perhaps we can discuss redemption another time?’ she added, noting how deflated the poor girl had gotten.

‘Really?!’

‘Ugh, Miss Betty, don’t egg her on-’ It appeared today that Angel would be interrupted more than once, because a loud BOOM rumbled from within the hotel. All three of them perked up.

‘The fuck…?’ mumbled Angel.

‘Oh no, is Alastor experimenting in the kitchen again?! I’m sorry, Be right back!’ Charlie was about to speed off, but Miss Betty gripped her arm.

‘Dear, did you just say ‘Alastor’?’

It was a long shot, it truly was. There were probably hundreds of Alastors in Hell. But she couldn’t help but hope.

And when she followed Charlie into the kitchen, her hope only grew stronger. That smell was familiar. She knew it had to be familiar, because the meals she made smelled exactly like that. Smoke completely covered the kitchen, so they could see nothing, but could only hear low, constant cursing, and laughter. Her heart stopped at that laughter. It sounded different, strange, distorted. But the tempo and tone of it… she’d know it anywhere.

‘Alastor? Husk? What happened?!’ cried out Charlie, waving away the smoke as it started to disperse.

‘What  _ happened _ ?!’ repeated a low voice, trembling with rage, and followed by a coughing fit. ‘This fucker just tried to kill all of us!’

‘Yeah yeah, tell us something new,’ said Angel, coming up behind the girls, pinching his nose with one hand and waving away the smoke with the rest of his hands.

‘Hahaha!’ another voice cut through the smoke. The ache in Miss Betty’s chest grow stronger. ‘Now, Husker, my friend! It was an honest mistake! If I really wanted to kill you all, I wouldn’t have done it with my mother’s cooking! It seems that I just-‘

‘Added too many spices?’ Miss Betty finished.

Silence hung in the thick air. There was a terrible, familiar sound of a distorted radio and, in a flash, all the smoke was gone.

And there he was. He looked so different. Taller, more demonic… also very red (though admittedly, she was no different). But she still knew it was him. The shape of his face, the way he carried himself, and his voice. His sweet voice. Memories of his very first ‘radio shows’ rushed to the forefront of her mind, but she held those memories back.

Inhale. Exhale. Okay, she could continue speaking without breaking. ‘My darling Alastor, what have I told you about the spices? Adding more doesn’t make it taste better.’ She gave him a quick look down. He was not hurt, at least.

The tension didn’t remain much longer, as it was Alastor who broke it. By rushing forward and embracing his mother. Of course, none of the others knew who she was, so there were a few soft ‘ _ what the fuck _ ’s in the background. Miss Betty didn’t hear them, though. She just… she could hear the tempo of his breath, feel the tenseness in his body. She’d dreamed of this for so long, almost 80 years she’d dreamed of it. Her lip trembled, barely keeping a smile together. Alastor was unreadable, his face buried in her shoulder. It seemed like he had dreamed of the same thing and had waited just as long as she had for this, a moment that neither were ever sure would arrive.

She wrapped her arms around him, one at his waist to hold him close, another with a gently placed hand on the back of his head, caressing his hair.

‘Mother has you now. You’re safe, Al.’


End file.
